Armored Hearts (9 page)

The cool night air seeped into the joints of his armor and wicked away the sweat that had formed during his practice. He was in mid-swing of his make-believe sword fight in the sky when he caught sight of a figure on the road below. He sheathed his sword and descended to the trees for cover. Who was on the road so late? The form was female and her dress clung to her in an oddly familiar way. As he drew closer, Gareth recognized the crème and rose dress from earlier.

He scowled. “What’s she doing out here?”

Jessamine hurried along the road toward town. Her brown hair had been partially swept up into a coiffeur earlier, but it now hung loose around her face. He descended to stand in her path, akimbo. His armor caused an echo, making his voice sound distant and unfamiliar. “Halt!”

The full moon cast pale light on her dark eyes and the pink in her cheeks. A grin spread across her face. “It’s you.”

Gareth was at a loss for words. What was he doing? He normally only disturbed what looked like a crime in progress. “Miss, it is not safe for a lady to be out walking alone. I advise you to hurry back to where you came and wait until the morning for whatever errand you are on. Nothing is open in the town this late.”

“I’m on my way to visit my cousin so I might share my good news. I’m to be married.”

Just like a silly girl to be out alone for such a foolish reason. “I must insist you wait to go in the morning. It’s not safe now.”

“Actually, I’ve heard the town is quite safe, all because of you. I was hoping to meet you.” She stepped closer. “And now I have.”

The way she gazed at him in the moonlight mesmerized him. Gareth couldn’t think as the breeze stirred her hair and blew her floral aroma in his direction. It was then something whistled past his ear, brushing against his helmet. It made a thud sound behind him. He jerked his head in that direction. An arrow stuck out of the tree trunk. The faint sound of another whistle put him on high alert. Time seemed to slow as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Another arrow headed for Jessamine. Gareth grabbed her in his arms and turned. The arrow glanced off the back of his armor with a metallic ring.

Jessamine screamed when the next arrow just missed them. Shielding her with his body, he took flight, cradling her against him.

In his chest, his heart raced harder, helping him fly faster than he ever had. He spun in the air like a log rolling in the river, avoiding the arrows as they followed. He climbed higher and headed for the cover of the forest. Once in the top of the tall pines, he settled Jessamine on a limb.

“Stay here. I’ve got to go check and see who was shooting those.”

Her eyes were large with fright. “Was that a normal occurrence for you?”

“No!” Gareth looked back toward the direction of the town. “It seems not everyone is happy to have a flying knight patrolling the shire. I’ll be back. I promise.”

Jessamine grabbed his arm with both hands and met his eyes through the visor. Hers were desperate, huge, and full of concern. Gareth reached out and cupped her face with his gloved hand. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t leave you here for long.”

She nodded and gripped the tree. “Go, before he gets away.”

“Right.”

Gareth took flight. He held his arms close to his sides to increase speed. He reached the path where the arrows had rained down and followed where they might have come. He made his way to a copse several yards away. He found a patch of tall grass lying flat and a few stray arrows. A small pool of red glistened in the moonlight. Gareth set his jaw. Blood. He took off and skimmed over the trees and below the canopy searching for any stir. He found another drop of blood a few yards away but no more flattened grass.

Scooping up the arrows, he stashed them in the sheath with his sword and headed back to the pines. He found Jessamine standing in the tree, peering down with a smile.

Gareth flew up to her. “Are you not afraid of heights?”

She smiled wider and shook her head. “No, I love being up high, looking down on the world. Arrows flying at me—that I’m afraid of. Did you see anyone?”

Gareth shook his head. “No.”

“Has this happened before? Are you always in danger when you go out?”

“No. Never. Until tonight.” He mumbled to himself, “You really are bad luck.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Whoever it was, he’s gone now. I’d best get you back home before I do any more investigating.”

Gareth took hold of Jessamine and flew toward his estate.

Jessamine’s arms encircled Gareth’s neck, her face only inches from his. Even in the armor, he could feel how warm and soft her body was. He sometimes flew with Tabitha, but this was different. Tabitha was like a sister, but Jessamine’s scent affected him.

“You smell like flowers.”

“It’s yellow jessamine, the flower I’m named for. My mother had it made for me as a birthday gift.”

“No wonder it suits you.”

Gareth descended to the balcony of Jessamine’s guest room, and set her on her feet. He stood at attention.

“How did you know where I was staying?”

Gareth realized his blunder. He coughed. “I…know…all.”

“Now I’d believe that if I thought you a phantom.”

She stepped toward him and Gareth took to flight. “I have to track the path of the archer. Please take my advice and stay in at night from now on.”

“But then how will I see you again?”

“You won’t.”

Gareth hurled himself through the air, back toward the spot he’d found the arrows. Jessamine was a distraction indeed. How would he handle himself around her once she was his wife? How would he keep her at a distance so as to continue his work as the Flying Knight? And who was out tonight trying to shoot him with arrows?

He didn’t know the answers to any of his questions, but he’d have to find a solution to all of them, fast. His protective metal gear would take care of the issue of an archer out to get him for now. But the solution of what to do about Jessamine would take more than a suit of armor.

Gareth arrived back at the patch of flattened grass and blood. He flew around it, trying to find a track to follow. Only there wasn’t one. Just the second drop of blood. No trail in any direction. It was almost as if the archer had also taken flight.

His breath caught as he glanced about. Was there someone else with the ability to fly? At that thought, Gareth moved his investigation higher. He found more blood on the limb of a tree near the flatten patch. It was times like this Gareth wished he knew more about his ability and its origins. Did flying run in the family? And how would he ask his grandfather such a question? If it was from his mother’s side, he didn’t even know anyone to ask.

He knew nothing of his mother. Only that she was from Scotland and had left him. Was she still alive? Did he even care if she was?

Gareth headed into town and flew about. Most of the houses had already grown dark for the night, but he found a light on at Mr. Strong’s house. He flew down to try to investigate but the heavy beige curtains were drawn tight. Although they sifted the light through, he couldn’t even see any shapes on the other side.

He started to knock on the door but then realized he was in armor. If he took it off and hid it, Mr. Strong would ask about his chair.

Gareth lit upon a high branch in his favorite oak tree in town, and watched Mr. Strong’s house for an hour. Finally, the light went out. Nothing suspicious. The old man was probably reading or having a cup of tea.

Early morning light began to highlight the eastern horizon. Gareth yawned and headed back to his room. He slowly opened his balcony door and looked around. Never again would he fly in without checking first. Gareth changed out of the armor and into his nightclothes. He hid his armor in the trunk.

After climbing into his bed, he reached over to douse the light when he caught sight of one of the arrows in his sword’s scabbard. He withdrew from his bed and snatched one. He examined the arrowhead, twisting and turning it in the gaslight. Someone had tried to kill him. They had almost killed Jessamine. And though he couldn’t be certain, it seemed likely that person could fly. What had changed in his life that would suddenly bring this threat? There was the claymore that had arrived from nowhere. He’d have to question Sarah and Thompton further to find out who had delivered it. Did they sign for it? What company had shipped it?

Knowing the assailant could fly meant it wasn’t some hoodlum from the shire trying to rid the town of its protector. This was someone who knew something about Gareth, maybe more about him than he knew himself.

A knock sounded at his chamber door.

“Who is it?” He tucked the arrow quickly under his mattress, turned off his lamp, and laid his head on his soft feather pillow.

His door opened slightly. He expected to see Sarah or Tabitha, but instead it was Jessamine, carrying a lamp with her. “I thought I saw a light and heard stirring in here.” She padded in softly. “I just feel terrible about earlier. I didn’t mean to make you so angry with my proposition. I don’t want to start this marriage with you already feeling resentment toward me.”

Jessamine’s floral fragrance still lingered on him, and when she walked in, the stronger scent mingled. He cleared his throat. “It’s late and would not be appropriate for you to be found in my room alone. You should go.”

The golden light glowed on her face, and her dark hair shone like a raven’s feathers. “Yes, you’re right.” She turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Gareth let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He shook his head and rolled over to try to get at least a little sleep. His mind wandered back to the soft body he’d held in his arms a few hours earlier. Soon she would be his wife. That thought lead to all kinds of possibilities he’d never allowed himself to entertain before. He wasn’t sure he should even entertain them now. What if he couldn’t control his ability to fly and right in the middle of consummating the marriage, he realized they were on the ceiling. He clenched his fists. No, the marriage would be in name only.

And what of this attempted assassination? Did the assailant know Gareth was the Flying Knight somehow? Would he attack the house? Soon Grandfather and Tabitha would be gone, but Jessamine would still be there. He couldn’t put her at risk, either.

He closed his eyes at the thought. How could he investigate all this without her finding out his secret? And how would he keep her safe from whoever was trying to kill him?

The best thing to do would be to continue to push her away until she shipped herself back to America with her title as his estranged wife. The sooner that happened, the better.

Gareth finally drifted off to a fitful sleep, full of dreams of hidden archers and Jessamine in his arms, heading for the ceiling.

Gareth sat at his wing chair. He had asked to take his breakfast in his room. After his restless four hours of sleep, he had no interest in seeing the Kellers or Grandfather. And there was still the archer at large. It might be safer for everyone if the assassin didn’t find them in the same room with him,
if
the assassin knew he was the Flying Knight.

Sarah brought up Gareth’s tray and placed it on his desk next to the wing chair.

“Mornin’ sir. Ye look a bit frazzled fer so early. Ye na be hurt or feelin’ unwell I hope.” She eyed Gareth up and down as if seeking out an ailment.

“No, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Happy to hear it.” She nodded and opened the tray and butter dish before pouring tea. She winced and supported her arm with the other. A bandage wrapped around her forearm.

“What’s wrong with your arm?”

Sarah glanced down at the bandage. A strange look came over her before she answered. “Oh, clumsy me. I burnt it whilst cookin’ this mornin’. I put some butter on it before wrappin’ it up.”

Sarah turned to leave, but Gareth stopped her. “Sarah, you and Thompton are from Scotland. So was my mother.”

The ginger-haired woman turned with a grin. “Really? Lord Pensees didna mention that.”

“Not surprising. My father came home from a holiday with a wife who had no family connections. It wasn’t Grandfather’s proudest moment.”

Sarah nodded. “Oh.”

“But I don’t know anything about Scotland or my mother’s family.”

Sarah clapped her hands. “Scotland is beautiful. Especially the highlands where I’m from. The woods there be deep and full of magical creatures.”

“What kinds of creatures?”

“Oh, fairies. They live beyond the wooded curtain which can only be opened to one of their clan.”

Gareth scrunched his forehead. “Fairies? You mean the tiny people with wings?”

Sarah shook her head. “Na, yer thinkin’ of pixies. They be distant cousins of the Fae folk. Fairies be the size of humans, but they do’na fly with wings. They fly by fairy magic. It hits on the eve of adulthood.”

Gareth narrowed his eyes. “Like around twelve years?”

Sarah nodded. “Aye, ’bout then. God wouldna be so daft as to stick a mother with the responsibility of a flying baby.”

“And the magic, can it do anything besides make them fly?”

“Different Fae folk have different gifts. Some can only fly. Some are changelings and can take the form of other people or animals at will. Some are healers. But those are always women of noble birth. And there be the Seelie and Unseelie courts.” Sarah’s face took on a distant, despondent look.

“What’s the difference?”

Sarah started busying herself with putting Gareth’s bed to right as she spoke. “The Seelie be a loving clan. They find nourishment in love and family. They sicken among the land of men, where selfishness and hate rule. They stick to the deep wood, far from all that. The Unseelie tend to na be so organized. They feed off anger and resentment. They make a home among the worst of humans where they grow strong. But because of their very nature of animosity and discord, they be na able to gain strength as a court.”

Gareth’s brow furrowed as he listened. “Are the two courts enemies?”

Sarah nodded. “Aye, but the problem comes when a Seelie becomes Unseelie. All that need happen is to allow bitterness to take root. Unseelies almost never become Seelies, because once the bitterness takes root, it corrupts the soul. It’s na impossible to go back, but ’tis a very hard road.”